Power
by TheDarkandDisturbed
Summary: Eleanor Anne DeVaux is has plans, but can she work through the kinks when a couple of hunters get in the way? *Not following any storyline set. Rather, think of it as my own little Season 9*
1. Prologue

What's funny about the supernatural, in my perspective, is that it's so complex. The hard evidence could slap any human in the face, and yet they'd believe it were something else. The water turned on? Must've left it like that. The dog's whimpering as he hides in the corner with his tail curled under his ass? He's probably sick. Oh, daddy got his head chopped off by an oh-so-conveniently placed chainsaw that fell from the ceiling?

Must've been a freak accident.

Everyone burrows their heads in the "reality" that's been hammered into them since they were young, and if anything out of the "ordinary" occurs they make up lame-ass excuses so they don't have to face the lies of their ancestors.

So let the record show I, Eleanor Anne DeVaux, know what I am, know what's out there, and know that I am capable of great things.


	2. Don't Bless me Father, For I Will Sin

РяѻҏэяϮұ ѻғ тнэđаяӄаиđȡɨsʈυяƀəƌ

Don't Bless me Father,

For I'm About to Sin

I am nothing close to an exception. I was never meant to be human, never born to lead a life that wasn't lived in the shadowed recesses of the world. Never meant to be "normal" in the minds of those who believe they have some sort of obligation to judge those who dare stand out.

Even as I sat around at the worn-down bar resting just off route 65, the men bound in leather and jeans would always take a second look and inquire over my being with the group I was with. I didn't look any different than these biker types—other than the evident fact that I had _much _more hair—and I surrounded myself with an innocent 17-year-old who stood fresh out of prep school, a well-built brunette who held himself with a sinister dark side to him, and the ice blue orbs of a woman who hovered over the 17-year-old as if she were ready to pounce onto anyone who dare touch the poor soul.

Yet this was my crowd, the people I dedicated myself to. I looked over to Roman, forcing down the usual chuckle that came with seeing the orange streaks rise in his eyes. I set my hand at the base of my beer, gently scooting it over to him as an unspoken command for him to drink. As usual, he obliged.

"Why are we here, Elle?" Victoria murmured uneasily, fidgeting with the relatively thick straps of her dress. I could tell she didn't feel comfortable showing so much skin around peering eyes, and for it I took off my jacket and tossed it to her. Arabella's ice-cold eyes scanned over the bar once more prior to sitting down next to Victoria, the antagonized aura vibrant in her mannerisms. If Victoria didn't like something, Arabella didn't like something and did whatever she could to either make it better or get them away.

That's simply how familiars worked.

'_I recall when you made her squirm like that' _Roman's voice rang through my mind, and from it I smiled. Bella's eyes narrowed into a sharp glare towards us, and her balled fists forced the clawed nails to puncture her skin.

Other than that small reaction, Victoria's question remained unanswered. It forced a silence to linger amongst us as I looked around. The bar held two tenants clad in suits, the two of them occupied in a hushed argument that peaked my interest. I decided my search could wait, and stood from my seat with an idea in mind.

As usual, Roman stood with me—to which I set my hand on his shoulder and pushed him back into the seat.

'_Just getting drinks,' _I told him, _'there's no need to follow me.'_

The chatter of the bar blocked out the sound of my boots scooting across the rotting wood floors, and the plastic counter top of the bar was indented and torn away by the several bodies thrown by brawls and glasses slammed down from a stressful day at work. Yet the place always managed to grow on you, and the appearance never came to matter. Just as my fingertips brushed across the surface to welcome my presence, the conversation of the two occupants ceased.

"Oh, don't mind me," I murmured, checking the countertop for any sort of identification. I couldn't find it, but I could find an empty glass being taken away from the bartender. I recognized his dark eyes, and quickly smiled upon giving him a stern look.

"Hit me up, Ted."

Upon the command given in the subtext of that horrid slang, Ted nodded and pretended to grab a different glass, yet the alcohol he poured was in the one he'd just picked up…

_About time he learned correctly._

I took the glass from him, looking over the two men I walked up next to before I left. In a clean and refined suit, you could still find a haggard appearance in them. Their auras screamed at me through the shattered darkness that disheveled the natural, pure appearance—yet they were utterly human. Such a major hint only made me believe there was something more than simply coming in for a drink. For this, I told Roman to look out for the manager tonight.

Victoria seemed to catch on to what I was doing, and pulled her ridiculous little witch kit out. I rolled my eyes and took it, leaving her to make sure no one was looking.

I took out my lighter, flicking the small gear to bring the small flame flourishing through the alcoholic musk of the bar. I held the sage over it gently, and made sure she ash fell into the small tray that once contained all the little spices Victoria carried around. The small enchantment flowed through my lips smoothly, and the power within began to curl and tense. It was a whip ready to crack at my command, and yet I didn't need that much of it. As the flame blew out and sage burnt to ash, I could feel the massive amount of power left, forcing a deep craving for battle—or something that would channel the ability out.

Roman seemed to notice this struggle, and gently grabbed the lighter from me. He was aware he couldn't do anything about it, but he'd always try.

I breathed deeply, forcing my hands to move and rubbing the ashes around the lip of the glass after dumping the whiskey into the plant behind me. I held the glass close to my ear, and smiled as I found myself capable of listening to the conversation.

That smile, however, quickly faded upon realizing just what these men were.

"Roman, Bella," I addressed, and waited until I had their attention before continuing, "I need you two to do something for me…"

The clock chimed as it hit midnight, the neon behind the bar flickering in a constant battle to remain alight. My fists clenched and unclenched once more, followed by brushing my white hair back behind my shoulder—a routine that began to present itself as I waited out here for precisely ten minutes now.

Surely the workers in the bar wouldn't be stupid enough to wait on telling their boss. I was priority, and they'll be screaming for mercy if Jun doesn't show up—

And yet there he was, conveniently arriving before I had enough time to think up more punishments.

"Elean—" I put my hand up to stop him from continuing his sentence, keeping a cold and emotionless expression up.

"You know, after many years of being disappointed, I've stumbled across new abilities, new strategies," I began, watching his movements to calculate which words put fear into him, "For example, I'm really good with telekinesis."

I focused on Jun with everything I had, fighting a smile to see him gasp for air as his limbs strained out past his body—as if some invisible force was pulling him apart.

"When I say no bodies drop, Jun, I mean it," I allowed my voice to raise the slightest bit, throwing him to clash against the brick wall, "I didn't even screw you over! I offered you and your leeches some cover. I bring you a massive supply of blood, I give accept your disciples into my town—and for that my rules are torn up and slaughtered?"

"It's not me!" Jun quickly rushed, "There's a rogue trying to cause trouble!"

"It's also not _my _problem, Jun. For every body that drops, someone's head will roll. Understand?" I spoke through gritted teeth. I couldn't mention the hunters on his ass, the reputation those two carried would be too much and force both Jun and his coven to run—which meant _I _had to deal with them.

They wouldn't be chased out of town, and killing them would only bring more… Which meant it was about time we traveled and sparked a massacre so horrible it brought the masses away from the current situation… Yet the thought suddenly struck. An idea so horribly perfect came to mind in the nick of time.

Why go through the trouble of occupying them when there were a couple of pesky angels to do it for me?


End file.
